


Together Apart

by msmozzarella



Series: This is...Different universe [2]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, and gets super flustered having phone sex apparently??, i mainly wrote this for me, josh is a smitten kitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:21:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27848450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmozzarella/pseuds/msmozzarella
Summary: Josh is frazzled in the run-up to the Santos nomination. He calls the first person he can think of to help him not lose his cool.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Original Female Character
Series: This is...Different universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045847
Kudos: 7





	Together Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this is a series now???? I might write more if any other random ideas pop into my head. This one came to me while watching 2162 Votes; I know he's a mess but stressed Josh is somehow sexy to me. The female character is intended to be the same one as in my first Josh oneshot.

Josh ran his hands through his hair, making it as much of mess as his mind at the moment. “Nevada? What in the hell?” He let out an annoyed sigh. “Get me their rep on the phone as fast as you can.” He wouldn’t stop until Matt Santos was the Democratic nominee for president.

“The line’s busy,” an intern told him.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and groaned. “Keep trying till you get through.”

He was filled with nervous energy, and started pacing. He felt his heart start to race and his palms start to sweat. His hand found its way into his pocket and fiddled with his cell phone. A thought crossed his mind, along with a face. “I’ll be right back,” he shouted to no one in particular before heading away from all the commotion.

Josh started into a quick jog, going nowhere in particular. He was breathing heavily by the time he found a handicapped single person bathroom at the end of a long hallway. He smirked at the coincidence.

As soon as he locked the door, he took his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his call log for a particular name. He’d been a little mad when he realized Donna had been the one to give her his direct office number, but secretly it made his heart flutter a bit. 

The line started ringing; he leaned against the tile wall and relaxed a little. She sounded confused when she answered.

“Hi,” Josh said softly. His voice always seemed to dip a couple of octaves when he heard her voice. “You haven’t memorized my number yet?” He would never say he’d memorized her work number.

“Shouldn’t you be…running a campaign? Making your guy the nominee?” She punctuated her questions with a giggle.

“I had a second to get away,” he explained, still talking quietly. He knew bathrooms had an echo; Santos didn’t need this kind of embarrassment this late in the game.

“And you call me instead of someone important?”

“I feel like my head’s gonna explode,” he said, scrunching his eyes closed. “Just…talk to me.”

“So you’re alone?” Josh could hear the smile in her voice.

He chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughed. “What are you wearing?”

This elicited a full blown, ringing laugh. “Are you serious?”

“You’re distracted, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Well, yeah,” Josh said with another chuckle.

“Then just let me keep talking.” She sighed, and then said, “Are you gonna answer me or not?”

He sputtered.

“I don’t mean it like that,” she said, “it’s a deescalation technique.” She paused. “Okay, fine. Name five things you can see.”

“Since when did you become my psychiatrist?”

“I’ve been to therapy enough times to know this works for anxiety,” she said. “You should try it sometime. Come on, five things.”

Josh exhaled. “I feel like I’m talking to Donna.”

“She’s given me pointers. Let’s go.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, but couldn’t help smiling. “The toilet, obviously. The sink, the mirror…” Josh paused, noting how exhausted he looked in the reflection.

“Two more.”

“Soap… the um, grab bars.” His mind wandered, and he smirked to himself.

“What’s so funny about that, Josh?” she asked with mock surprise. “I use those sometimes.”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Nothing at all.”

“Don’t you feel better?” she asked, a sweetness coming into her voice.

Josh’s breathing had evened out, and he could no longer feel his heartbeat drumming through his shirt. “Yeah,” he answered. “I guess I do.”

“So I was right?”

He smiled so that his dimples showed. “Yes, yes you were.”

“Took a lot for you to say that, didn’t it?”

“Shut up.”

Her giggle made his heart skip from hundreds of miles away. “So…what are you wearing?”

Josh’s face turned pink. “You-You really wanna know?”

She hummed in response.

“Just a…white collared shirt and a tie Leo got me at Christmas,” he said, pulling a little at the knot near his throat. “Nothing fancy.”

“The shirt’s probably a size too big,” she smirked. “I could get you something nice.”

The thought made him grin in spite of himself.

“In case you were wondering,” she said, “I just got back from the gym, so I’m in nothing but a t-shirt and bike shorts. Very hot.”

He imagined her laying on her couch, her surprisingly long legs sprawled out in front of her. He knew she was probably alone. “I wish you were here with me,” he said in a small voice.

“You do?” She sounded taken aback. “I’m touched, Josh.”

“Mhmm,” he said, crossing the bathroom to sit down on the toilet. “Our talks have been…they’ve been nice.”

She’d called him in the White House a few weeks after the fundraising dinner; first just to see how he would react, then because she liked sneaking up on him, then because she just liked talking to him. He’d even returned the favor quite a few times, and given her his campaign office number. When he wasn’t trying to impress anybody or sew up a political deal, Josh Lyman had one of the biggest hearts of anyone she knew. Nothing about her fazed him.

He liked that she didn’t ask anything of him, didn’t expect him to be a certain way. He wasn’t Josh Lyman the DC hotshot sex symbol with an attitude problem, he was Josh Lyman the sarcastic, insecure but well meaning guy who happened to be managing a Democratic presidential campaign. Nothing more, nothing less.

“What do you wish we were doing?” she asked sweetly. “And don’t say watching Santos win the nomination.”

Josh gave a quiet chuckle. “I’d like to take you to dinner,” he said earnestly. “So we can finally talk face to face. It’s been too long.”

“Of course,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Anything else?” He knew she was on a cordless phone, but all the same he imagined her twirling a cord around her fingers when she asked this.

He let out a cough. “Um…”

“Don’t be shy, no one’s tapping my phone,” she laughed. “Yours, I’m not so sure about.”

“If anyone was tapping any of my lines I’d be in big trouble by now,” he said.

“Well?” she pressed.

He screwed his eyes shut for a second. “I’d take you back to my hotel, in midtown even though I hate it as much as you do,” he said. “We’d order dessert on room service and watch crappy movies on cable.”

“I do have a sweet tooth,” she said coyly, and he felt a twinge in his belly.

“You wouldn’t be eating much of it, would you?” Josh asked, choking out a laugh.

“I mean,” she replied, holding back a giggle, “probably not.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “This is so cringey.”

“No, no, no,” he said softly. “Keep talking.”

She shifted in her seat. “What else would you wanna do?” She paused. “I have some ideas.”

“Oh?” He swallowed thickly. “Tell me.”

“I wanna touch every part of you I can get my hands on.” Heat rose to his cheeks, and he instinctively rubbed the back of his neck. “I might need some help, but…”

“That’s fine.” Josh licked his lips, imagining them in the Double Tree or the Marriott (not that it mattered, he’d do anything for them to be in the same room, alone or not), on some plush queen sized bed, her looking so angelic it might break him. “And would you be…naked, in this little scenario?”

“If you want me to be,” she answered, which elicited a deep sigh from him. “But only if you promise you’d be too.”

He chuckled darkly, and thought he could feel the warmth radiating from his face now…and virtually every other part of his body. “Anything you want.”

“Anything?” Josh could hear the facetiousness in her tone.

He grinned involuntarily and only said “Yes.”

“I’d want you to be a little gentle at first,” she said. “You know, just because I don’t exactly have guys lining up to sleep with me. This would be an infrequent set of circumstances for my crippled body.”

He laughed at her self-deprecation.

“I’m serious, Josh,” she continued, but giggled anyway. “I know you’re good, but I’d want you to take your time. Make me work for it.”

The twinges in the pit of his stomach were back. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been told that,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“You could pick up the pace after a bit though,” she went on. “Oh, and I like it when you do that thing with your tongue. On my mouth and chest. You know the one.”

He was struggling to stay composed. “You do know I’m working right now?” Josh asked, voice cracking slightly. “Like, at the goddamn Democratic National Convention?”

“I didn’t forget,” she smirked. “I just didn’t want you to hang up yet. I like hearing your voice.” She laughed sheepishly. “Don’t freak out, everything’s gonna be fine. Call me back if you have like, two minutes to spare?”

Josh went back to the hotel the campaign had booked once all the hustle and bustle had died down (and there had been plenty before Matt Santos was named the Democratic nominee), face flushed and practically buzzing with pride and happiness. He let himself into his room (slowly, like Donna had taught him) and just about collapsed onto the bed. 

He spotted a missed call from a New York City area code when he looked at his phone again, from around the time the announcement was made on CNN. He’d call her back, he thought, shucking off his sweaty shirt and unzipping his pants. He had to take care of…something else first.


End file.
